The weather is about to change and the pressure is on to make the most of the sun while it lasts, hence I Go for a Walk. There are no end of trails hairpin bending up mountains. I can walk for hours in any direction from the farm and will probably have to once the rains start and the gullies in the track get more entrenched and the car’s sump and wheels get shredded again.
However, as well as the unmarked open rambles along rivers and lanes, and the bonafide marked trails through the natural park, there’s a 36km stretch of disused railway, possibly the only trail without a climb so steep it makes me want to bend over and be sick. I walked, and stopped to admire the views and shout in the echoing kilometre-long tunnel, admired views of farms that looked like mine, and ended a little bored halfway at an old station house, now a restaurant with yellow trim surrounded by crags and forest where I had a cold beer. When you do nothing but walk, Doing Walks isn’t so much of a thing.